Temperate Relations
by AyaTheMidorian
Summary: They were polar opposites, but they found a friend in each other. The weather outside and in wouldn't change that. NOW UPDATED!
1. Restarting

Like many polar opposites, they didn't get along at first. They had arguments, incidents, and even a few scuffles, leaving both spirits with their fair share of injuries. It hadn't been until they shared a moment of laughter that they realized how much they had in common. A joke here and a prank there, a contest of elements, a battle of wits; they found a friend in each other in spite of their differences. Both dawn and dusk were times when they could have the most fun, for those were the hours when the heat of the day lessened enough for Jack to travel to his friend's island home. The reverse could not be done, for Julius could be afflicted by the cold as easily as he could heat it, and heating it would cause trouble in the ecosystem. Thus, Jack Frost made it easy on his friend by visiting him instead. Julius, in turn, always toned down his heat enough to keep Jack from being uncomfortable. The advantage of living on a relatively temperate island meant that their visits were many.

Jack regretted being so late with this one.

It had been far too long; years had gone past in the blink of an eye, and then those years turned to decades. He'd kept to himself in the time leading up to and after the harsh blizzard of 1968. A lot of spirits had been angry with him then. Well, especially older ones, angry with his childish recklessness. He never knew if Julius had been mad or disappointed in him. In all honesty, he had never even talked to Julius when it happened, and had stopped talking to him from then on, even after becoming a Guardian. Now, after decades of thinking, he realized what a mistake that had been. He'd had a friend, a companion who didn't judge him or disapprove of him or talk down to him, and he had just abandoned him, forgetting the time they'd shared.

That was why he had to make things right. It was late August, the last few stretches of the summer season. Jack glided over the Seychelles Islands, passing crystal blue water and white sand beaches, squinting away from the setting sun. He wiped his brow; it was still closer to day than night, and that meant it was far too warm for his liking. In fact, it was rather hot for the island country. The average temperature was already quite hot for a winter spirit, but Julius always withdrew some extra heat at sunrise and sunset. Today it seemed as if it was hotter than it would have been in the day. Jack wiped his face again, feeling small rivers of sweat running past his ears.

The winter sprite gave a grateful sigh when he found a familiar cove on the side of Ile Marianne. He stopped short when he felt the intense heat emitting from it. Julius was home, and judging from the hot air threatening to knock Jack out of the sky, he wasn't happy. Nevertheless, Jack Frost pushed forward, struggling to fly in a straight line toward the beach house he could see beneath him.

He was halfway there when his head began pounding. He struggled but failed to keep his eyes open, and could only remember a streak of spice-brown before he blacked out.

* * *

Jack woke up on something soft. He lay there and simply breathed for a moment, and eventually decided that the softness around him was a mattress. He recognized the feeling from his new room in the North Pole. The closeness of the fabric further proved that his hoodie was gone; when he shifted his body, however, he could feel the presence of his thin undershirt. Jack finally opened his eyes, his vision a blur of red and orange. It cleared slowly, and he could see shapes: picture frames on the wall, his staff leaning on a dresser, a doorway, a window from which sunset light streamed... and a figure sitting in a chair next to the bed he was laying on.

Jack jolted up in surprise. Ice blue eyes locked onto umber brown ones. Julius St. Ange was glaring daggers at him, his arms folded, spice-brown skin glowing gold in the sunset's light. He was still for a long, silent minute. Then he tossed his head, tied-back dreadlocks swinging, and sank down in the chair.

"You idiot."

"Hi, Julius." Jack sighed. He stretched his arms, wincing as his joints popped. "What's up?"

"Don't you 'what's up?' me," the summer sprite pouted. "you could have melted out there. What if I hadn't been home, huh?"

"I wouldn't be here," Jack replied. "I found you because there's a heat wave over Seychelles."

"No thanks to you," Julius was pointedly avoiding eye contact with his former friend. Jack cringed, knowing full well what the other spirit was insinuating.

"Okay, I know you're mad at me," he started. "I ditched, you, I'm terrible...I'm sorry." Jack's remorseful expression mixed with confusion, and finally concern when he noticed that Julius was trembling slightly. His chest was rising and falling quickly, and the anger on his face was fading away to pain.

"Are you okay?"

"You should go," Julius said curtly. "If you're feeling better, get outta here."

"At least lemme talk for a minute?" Jack insisted. "I know I can't make up for abandoning you, but I...I wanna try." the winter sprite gingerly climbed out of bed. "We can go hang out! You and me, on the beach."

"Jack, get out of here," Julius said through gritted teeth. "I mean it, go!"

"Julius, what's wrong with you?" Jack stepped toward the chair. Julius shrank away, his face scrunched up in pain and concentration.

Jack saw it before he felt it.

His eyes caught the shimmering air around Julius's body. He saw the beginning trails of smoke curling around his clenched fists. There was peace, silence, and then the warmth hit him full force. Jack staggered back and onto the bed, looking at Julius in shock. The summer sprite jumped from his seat and bolted for the door. He stumbled out of the room before Jack had the chance to right himself. By the time he did, Julius was gone and the room itself was stiflingly hot. Jack held his spinning head and looked to the window; the orange sunset had been blotted out by dark gray storm clouds. Taking his staff from its perch on the dresser, Jack hobbled out of the bedroom.

He was met with even more uncomfortable heat. The entire beach house was stuffy despite the open windows, and warm wind blew in from outside. Jack's heart sank when he realized how different it had felt when they were in Julius's room together. It had been cool. Not cozy, not warm, but _cool_. Jack pushed forward with his staff, heading for the open front door. He wiped his face continuously, for sweat and melted frost were pouring off his forehead and soaking into his shirt. He could see Julius on the beach, swaying on his feet. Gritting his teeth, Jack stepped out of the house and onto the wooden porch.

"JULIUS!"

Julius looked back at him with wide, frightened eyes. He fell to his knees, and Jack could see the rippling air growing around him. The bits of tropical flora around the spirit were withering to death. If there had been any critters on the sand still, they had already scurried for the minute treeline and the ocean water. Neither was safe for long; the trees shook in the angry storm wind and waves pounded violently against the strip. A thrill of fear burst through Jack when warm water rushed up to the house's foundation beams. The wave pulled back, and Jack saw Julius coughing up water and struggling to his feet. He gripped his head in his hands, and the warmth in the air seemed to recede before spreading out again. In that moment, Jack understood perfectly.

Because it had happened to him.

His mind flashed back to almost 50 years ago, in 1968. He remembered his emotions, feelings that seemed rather unwarranted now, but harsh and powerful at the time. He remembered those feelings swirling and battering him from the inside out. He remembered trying so hard to rein them in, and he remembered failing, and he remembered the damage he caused that Easter Sunday. As he looked back to Julius's shaking form, Jack understood exactly what was happening. His friend was holding his powers in, holding his emotions in. Jack remembered when he had woken up; he remembered Julius's look of intense concentration, his brusque demand for Jack to leave. He hadn't been that angry with him. He'd needed him to go so he could release his energy safely. He'd been storing it all for Jack's sake, and now it had been pent up for far too long.

Jack tripped as he climbed down the stairs. He just barely caught himself, hooking his staff on the banister before he could fall to the ground. He inched himself down to the beach, wincing at the hot sand on his feet. Still he pressed on, gingerly stepping toward the now-smoldering figure of his longtime friend. He was growing weaker with every movement forward, but he didn't stop, not even when Julius noticed him and yelled at him, shouting warnings as he backpedaled away.

"What are you doing, stupid? Stay away!" Julius screamed. "Get out of here!"

"Julius, you've g-got to calm down," Jack choked out. He was all but slipping off his staff, just barely staying on his feet. "It's okay! I know you're mad, and I'm sorry. Please..." Jack trailed off and his eyes widened in horror. Julius followed his gaze, turning around to face the sea.

A monstrous wave was looming over the beach. Stormy Southern Wind tossed the water into itself, morphing sinister gray peaks into fizzing white foam. Julius stood there, paralyzed, and Jack looked on with trembling knees.

"Julius!" Jack shouted. He tried to step forward but fell, still clutching his staff. The wave was curling, ready to pound back into the sea and send its water over them both.

* * *

There was little time to think, so Jack simply acted. He thrust his staff forward and poured every bit of strength he had into it. He closed his eyes.

Julius flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for water to slam into him. He didn't expect a blast of cold air and icy slush. The frigid sensation shocked open his eyes, he was met with a sight that could only be described as terrifyingly strange.

The ocean water had rushed up to the beams of his house and was receding slowly. Mounds of slush were mixed in, along with a couple of very confused fish. Cold rain was falling from the sky, and Jack Frost was being pulled out by the ebbing tide. Panicking, Julius ran over to him, grabbing his staff before it could be washed out to sea.

"Jack! JACK!" Julius pulled the winter sprite up, and stumbled farther up the beach. He fell to the ground, just out of reach of the waves. He put his ear to Jack's mouth and his hand to his chest. He sighed in relief; there was breathing, there was a pulse.

"Why do you do this to me...?" Julius groaned. He sat back on his knees. There was a cough and a hack, and Jack sat up, sputtering seawater out of his lungs.

"You're the one...flooding your own beach," Jack choked.

"...I told you to leave," Julius frowned, turning away from his old friend. "You should've left while you had the chance."

"How could I? I...came to apologize."

"Yeah, forty-something years and you wanna call back? Real nice." Julius huffed, crossing his arms. Jack sighed.

"I know. I suck at friendship, I'm the worst."

"You're an idiot, that's what you are," Julius snapped. "Did you forget that it's summer? Or are you still without the slightest drop of foresight in that chilly brain?"

"Julius, I wanted to sort things out, and I wasn't gonna put it off. That would just make me feel worse!"

"How do you think I feel?! You knew it was hot and you came anyway. If you died it woulda been my fault, fool!" Jack gulped as he noticed the shimmering air forming around Julius again. He reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, fighting back a wince at how warm he was.

"Julius, it's not your fault."

"Yes it is!" Julius tried to pull away, but Jack abandoned his staff and grabbed him with both hands.

"It's not. You have natural powers and your emotions influence them. You can't help it all the time. Trust me, it happens..." Jack looked away for a moment, and then focused back on Julius with a determined expression. "It happens, but we can learn how to deal with it. I didn't know how before, but now I do. So...we can work it out, y'know?"

"Sure you won't be too busy for little ol' me?" Julius laughed bitterly. "Don't you have Guardian stuff or whatever now?"

"O-oh, you know about that?" Jack smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, that's new. But it's not like evil rises to threaten all the children of the world every day. I can come visit, I promise."

"I dunno about your promises, man." Julius laughed, this one having a bit more humor behind it. "This sounds real familiar."

"I said I'm sorry!" Jack cried, finally releasing Julius. "I'm sorry, okay? I won't leave you again."

"...Forty n' fifty years ain't that long for us," Julius sighed. "Feels like it sometimes, though."

The rain was still falling, but it had gone from cold to warm. Jack and Julius sat in silence. After a few minutes, the rain began to thin, and finally it stopped. The gray clouds faded and made way for the night sky. The moon was shining brightly, and stars speckled the deep blue night. Shimmering wisps of golden sand were making their way through the sky to the minds of children sleeping on the islands.

"Let's start over, eh Jack?" the winter sprite turned to his friend. Julius was looking up at the sky, his eyes no longer stormy and troubled. "Let's be friends."

"Sure thing..." Jack trailed off with a yawn. Julius turned and smiled at him.

"You can crash here if you wanna. You'd better scram before morning, though."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack stood up, wincing at his aching body. "Ow..."

"You're not too hot still, are you?" Julius said concernedly. "Here, your staff." He picked the tool up from the ground and handed it back to its owner. Jack smiled gratefully.

"Thanks. I sure am tired, though." Jack sighed, reaching out a hand. "Carry me back up?"

Julius scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Don't push it, Frostbite. I already carried you once today."

"So you can carry me again!" Jack pleaded, leaning dramatically on his staff. "Please, I'm dyin' here..."

"Ugh, you jerk..." Julius groaned. "But I can't tell if you're serious..."

"Please?" Jack pouted childishly. His friend sighed heavily. Julius moved toward him, but before he could get far he got a faceful of snow.

"Agh!" he sputtered, wiping the cold powder off his face. He glared at Jack, fiery competition in his eyes. "Why, you..."

"Catch me if ya can!" Jack stuck out his tongue and made for the beach house.

"Not so fast!" Julius scooped up a handful of sand, still wet from the rain, and raced after Jack.

They ran about for ages, fighting with sand and snow until they were too tired to reach the house. They slept in the branches of a tree, and Julius saw Jack off in the light of early morning.


	2. Strangers

In the early days, Jack kept to his lands.

He could fly with the Wind, fast and free. It was the most exhilarating thing he'd ever done, he supposed, with decorating the world in frost being a close second. Yet he never strayed far from the woodlands and villages, going only as far as the ocean and retreating to the mountains when the warm seasons arrived. In all his time as a spirit, he had seen many peculiar creatures and ethereal beings. There were faeries and pixies, even gnomes and ghosts, though unless they were fellow tricksters or winter sprites they paid him little regard. Of course no human paid him any mind, either. Despite not being quite alone, Jack Frost was terribly lonely. It kept him searching curiously, though after a couple unsavory supernatural encounters he was often cautious of approaching unfamiliar spirits.

His life changed one morning, during the burning summer season.

He'd woken up to see the intricate patterns of his frosty cave home dripping to the ground. Sitting up from his perch in a tree, he immediately noticed the heat in the air. He felt sweat beading on his forehead, and he swiped at his drooping white hair. Gliding down from the tree offered a slight breeze from the Wind, but to his alarm even it seemed warmer than before. Clutching his staff in both hands, Jack stepped toward the front opening of the cave.

Now, Jack had seen the Spring many times. He'd appreciated the flowers and animals, just beginning to grow and gain color. But it had been a while since he'd awakened in the Summer. Usually he just dozed inside his cave until the Autumn chill made it viable to spread frost again. Standing here in the Summer, he found everything foreign, yet somewhat familiar. The scenery, however, wasn't nearly as confounding as the person standing a few feet away from him.

There weren't many things that made it clear, but Jack could tell that he was a spirit, not a human. The young man was tall and strong-framed, but in his face looked to be no older than Jack. He had dark skin, a deep dark earthy color. His hair was long, in a style the tiniest bit like plaits but…not, and Jack couldn't recall ever seeing anyone with their hair that way. His clothes were simple, only a cotton shirt and fitted pants, and he wore no shoes. Jack cautiously tiptoed closer, feeling the heat radiating off of this stranger.

The newcomer turned his head toward Jack sharply. He bristled for a moment, observing Jack critically, and only lowered his guard slightly when he determined Jack was a spirit, too. He looked over him curiously. Neither moved, neither blinked. It was Jack who spoke first.

"You…feel like the Summer."

"- - - - - -. - - - -?"

Jack blinked. The other spirit's mouth had moved, and sounds had come out, but Jack had not understood a word. He must have caught his blank look, because he frowned in thought and tried again.

"Ou…es…uh…" he paused, thinking again. "Vous etez…l'hiver?"

"Um?" Jack scratched his head. The other spirit sighed and hugged himself, shivering.

"Hiver! Le froid…uh…froid, le froid!"

"Frod? Or frost...? Do you mean…cold?" Jack stared closely at the spirit's actions.

"Col'…wi, col', le froid, l'hiver."

"Yes, that's me. Who are you?"

"'Ou es col', uh…désolé, mon pa kapab koz Angle byen…" Jack had to admire the spirit's attempts at speaking English when it clearly wasn't his native tongue. He paused again, then pointed to himself before continuing. "…es chaud." He repeated it again, pointing to himself and adding "es chaud."

"I'm sorry, I don't know…" Jack gave him a helpless look. Again the stranger gestured, this time to the world around them, before pointing back to himself. Jack's eyes lit up.

"So you are Summer! You're summer, I'm winter!" he exclaimed, pointing respectively. The spirit nodded, eyes wide.

"Summer…winter. Wi, I'm…summer, ou…are, winter!"

"You're Summer," Jack's voice fell to a hush. He stepped toward the other spirit, who stared at him with just as much curiosity. However, though Jack could not notice it, there was still a hint of wariness in the Summer spirit's eyes. He backed away as Jack approached.

"Es no winter. Non, c'est…summer," he frowned, looking over Jack again. "Pourquoi…you…?"

"Hm?" Jack tilted his head. He managed to gather that the summer spirit was pointing out that it was indeed the hot season with no need for the cold. That probably meant he was asking why Jack was out here talking to him. Jack deflated and moved away from him.

"Oh…"

"Ou dormi en…summer, wi?" he rested his head against his hands, and Jack understood. He nodded, still not sure whether the other seasonal was trying to coax him into leaving.

"Yeah, I sleep during the summer."

"Es trop froid…uh, col'," he continued. "Pa col' en summer."

"I know," Jack sighed. He gazed down dejectedly, unable to keep back the scowl on his face. "I'll go back, then."

"Ou winter i zoli-!"

"It's what?" Jack looked back up in surprise. The summer spirit smiled and nodded. He pointed to the mouth of Jack's cave, where a bit of frost was still visible on the rocky surface.

"C'est beau, i zoli…mais I…I'm, trop chaud…" he lowered his hand sheepishly.

"Oh…yeah, you thawed it!" Jack crossed his arms. "The mountains are supposed to stay cold around here."

"Ehehe…" A sheepish smile and embarrassed nod. Jack shrugged and unfolded his arms, giving up on acting upset.

"Hey, what's your name?" Jack asked. "My name is Jack Frost. Who are you?"

"Jack…Frost…" the other spirit tried the name out slowly. "Jack Frost. Hm! Plezir, Jack Frost! Mon appel Jules de St. Ange."

"Ju-liez?" Jack sounded. "Juli…us? Julius?"

Julius smiled. He nodded and made a wide arm gesture to Jack.

"Plezir, Jack Frost. Mon appel…my…name…is Julius de St. Ange."

"Uh, plezir, Julius de St. Ange."

Julius cracked a smile and tapped at the ground. The earth began to shift there, and suddenly a green shoot sprouted from the dirt. It grew and grew until it bloomed a tall, brown-centered flower with bright yellow petals. Julius plucked it from the soil and held it out. Jack took it hesitantly.

"Thank you…"

"Zher voo zon pree. Ou dormi en summer. Is summer pour you." Julius nodded, pushing the flower closer to Jack.

"…I…" Jack stared down at the sunflower. "I can keep it…?"

"Wi! Pour you!" Julius began to walk backwards, to the edge of the mountain's cliff. Jack's smile faltered as he looked up.

"Wait, are you leaving?"

"Is summer. Zher pa vyen der, uh…" Julius paused, then pointed at the ground and himself, making an X with his arms. Zher vyen der l'isle!" he pointed away from the mountain.

"You're not…from here, you're from…sorry, what was the last word?"

"Isle…isle?" Julius moved his hands in a circle.

"An island?" Jack asked. Julius nodded at this.

"I'm…leav-ing."

"Oh…" Jack sighed. "That makes sense. Hm…"

"You...leav-ing en winter, wi?"

"Huh?"

Julius stepped closer to him. His deep brown eyes were just as warm as the season he represented.

"I'm leav-ing en summer, you leaving in winter!"

"L-leaving? No, I've..." Jack's breath hitched in his throat, uncertainty crinkling his brow. "I've never…"

"You're winter, I'm summer. I leaving, you never leaving?"

"I mean…I never thought about it," Jack's eyes grew wide. "I've seen boats a-and travelers, but I wasn't sure…"

"You leaving en winter! En winter! You sure, you leaving."

"Leave where, though? You want me to come visit you?"

"Eh, wi, visit!" Julius grinned a dazzling white smile. It faded into a wry smirk. "Mais no winter, is trop col'."

"Wait, what?"

"You visit, no winter! Leave when you sure."

"Wh-that doesn't make any sense!" Jack frowned. Julius laughed and backpedaled to the edge of the mountain. He jumped back into the sky, and Jack felt a warm breeze whip his cloak as it rushed to catch Julius. The summer spirit spun in the air before waving and speeding away from the mountain.

Jack stood their blinking in the bright summer sun. He wiped his brow and looked back at the sunflower in his hand.

"That was…weird."

He trudged back to the cave. Once in the shade, he tapped his staff against the walls, once again covering everything in a chilly layer of intricate frost. He sighed in relief from the heat. Then he sighed in exasperation from his new encounter.

What was he supposed to do with this? He'd never met another seasonal spirit before. The elemental sprites and fairies didn't really count, he thought, since they were small and only ever danced around the water, plants, storms, and fires. He'd never met the Spring or the Autumn spirits. Now the Summer, of all seasons, had visited him up on his mountain. He couldn't have known he lived there in the hot months, but why was he up there anyway? And then he just invited him – more like insisted, really – to visit him on his island, wherever that was. But he said not to bring winter when he did? That wasn't possible! He pouted. The more he thought about it, the more confused and irritated it made him.

Jack twirled the sunflower stem in his hand. He thought back on everything Julius said. It was like a social puzzle, and his lack of interaction skills wasn't helping one bit.

"You sure, you leaving."

If he was sure? So he wasn't being rushed. Even so, he wasn't at all certain how to handle this attention. He wasn't sure he liked it either. Well…

A layer of frost stiffened the sunflower up. Jack pressed it gently to the wall and pinned it there with another layer of frost. It stayed, almost like a picture with no frame.

He could think about it when he got back up in autumn. Winter was far off from now, anyway.

* * *

 **That's the end of that! I hope everyone enjoyed. Now for a little explanation:**

 **As we established, Julius is from Seychelles. I won't give away all of his story just yet, but I will say that I am trying my absolute BEST to make him and their interactions historically and logically accurate. I've been looking up as many facts as I can, which will be used later on as we shape this story.**

 **That being said, I wanted to show the initial language difficulties in a realistic way. We saw in the movie that characters could speak in different languages (North and Tooth), and I'm not certain the others understood them, but the audience couldn't and I decided the same for the characters. So in this story, Julius started out speaking Seselwa, or Seychelles Creole, and Jack sort of blanked out because he didn't understand and wasn't expecting it. After that, he tried harder to listen and decipher what Julius was saying, while Julius himself tried speaking more simply and mixing the more common French words in along with body language and repeating words that Jack was saying to him. Messy, but realistic to someone trying to speak to you in your native tongue. However, I want to apologize for the possible butchering that I may have done due to inconsistencies in spellings when I looked up Seselwa. I only learned French in school, not any dialects.**


	3. Stories Being Updated

**Hello everyone! I know it's been a long while. This is a notice that I am currently updating my stories and replacing them with slightly altered chapters. I really just changed minor details so far in Temperate Relations, but "Alternatives" is being completely rewritten. I will post a new chapter again once all the changes are finished, so that you can read again if you are interested. Thank you to everyone who was so patient with me!**


	4. Strangers, Julius

Travelling the world taught Julius more than human life ever did. Years of pain stuck with him, but there were so many years ahead of him now.

He didn't care for looking back on his memories, but it happened all the time. It happened when he travelled off his island and looked at the people working in fields, free now but still needing work. It happened when he took off his shirt and traced his fingers over the circular indents in his chest, or when he stretched too hard and the scars on his back ached and itched. It happened, especially, when he travelled away and looked over other countries, where the practice was still going strong. There was no ignoring what put him here, but in all fairness, he was constantly amazed that he was even here now. He still didn't know why he became a spirit, let alone the kind he was. He could have been a lingering ghost, trapped in his last moments and roaming the village forever, but somehow, he'd been made a denizen of the Summer season.

When he learned how to fly, he almost left for good. He flew nearly everywhere, making friends with the Southern Wind who carried him across the world in minutes. There was too much that he'd never seen. There were people and cultures he never could have imagined. Decades later, he still had much to learn. As he gained more skill in delivering the Summer, he began to meet more spirits. There were animals, rivers, and even forests to meet on Earth. He heard tales of creatures that came from the sky and even further, but he had never met them. He'd never even met the other Seasonal spirits.

One day, he stood upon a mountain overlooking a North American city.

He'd been distracted, gazing down at the summer foliage. When he finally noticed the boy, he thought he was a human at first, and so on instinct he tensed. Humans couldn't see him normally, but the boy stared straight at him. His appearance caught him off guard, but he was skinny and pale and dressed in shepherd clothes. He doubted this boy would have been any threat, even if they had both been human.

"You feel like the Summer."

Julius understood some English, but he hadn't retained pronunciations well. He knew French and he knew Seselwa, and he knew that both French and Creole were spoken in America. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad. For now, he focused intensely on the boy's features. Such pale skin and stark white hair, ice blue eyes and frost on his shoulders.

 _"You feel like the winter. Are you the Winter spirit?"_

There was confusion on the boy's face. So he did not understand… Julius thought for a moment, and repeated himself slowly.

 _"Are you winter?"_

Confusion again. Julius sighed. Perhaps body language would do better.

 _"Winter! Cold…uh, cold, cold!"_

 _"_ Col' _, yes,_ col' _…cold, winter."_

 _"You are Cold…sorry, I don't speak English well. I…am Hot. The heat."_

It took many gestures just to introduce himself. The boy seemed excited to learn, and his eyes lit up when Julius managed to show that he was the spirit of Summer. He began to pepper English into his speech, trying to pronounce them as the Winter boy did. As they talked, something occurred to Julius, and he frowned.

"Es no winter…pourquoi…you…?"

What was he doing out and about? In this country, it was Summer. Julius expected a simple answer, and so he was shocked to see the boy's face fall as he began to inch away. Oh, he didn't want to upset him. How young he seemed, how unsure. He hadn't meant to imply that he should leave. Searching frantically around the area, Julius looked for something, anything to lift his spirits. His eyes fell on the shimmering cave in the side of the mountain.

 _"Your winter is pretty-!"_

Again with the confusion. Julius said it again, before noticing the intricate frost patterns turning gray and dripping to the soil below. Oops. The boy pouted at him for this, but he seemed to be in a better mood. Julius rubbed his head sheepishly.

The boy's name was Jack Frost. Fitting.

 _"Nice to meet you, Jack Frost. My name is Julius de St. Ange."_

It was the name he'd been assigned at birth. It was a French name, a so-called "proper" name. It never left him, nor could he find it in himself to leave it, even with all that it came with. He didn't know any other name to call himself.

"Uh, plezir, Julius de St. Ange."

Well, listen to that! Julius smiled. He felt the Wind brush past his ear. Was it time to leave already? He looked to Jack again. He was certain their paths would cross more now that they had met, but he wondered how long that would take.

 _"You sleep in the summer. Here's summer for you."_

Julius prepared to leave, only to stop when he saw Jack falter. He tried to explain his island home, and came to a new realization.

"You never leaving?"

So Jack had never left his home country. Julius didn't know how long Jack had been a spirit, but after just the couple decades he'd been overseeing Summer, Julius had nearly forgotten what it felt like to see the same place every day.

"You leave en winter! You sure, you leaving."

 _Leave in winter! Once you're sure, you'll leave._

"You visit, no winter! Leave when you sure."

 _Visit! Don't bring the winter with you._

Julius listened to the South Wind's stories as he flew past the trees of the mountains. She had danced with the North Wind and touched the clouds like she'd done so many times before. He wondered if Jack would like flying this far, too.

* * *

 **This story takes place around the mid-1800s, two decades after slavery was abolished in Seychelles. I'd like to read your comments about what you may have gleaned from that. I left some heavy hints, so I hope to see your responses!**


	5. Seashell Memorial

There was wind in the leaves and the waves. The water made soft peaks, white foam that blended into the pale gray skyline. Jack glanced down at the frost inching over the sand he was sitting on. Despite his efforts, his Cold was spreading along the beach. He'd already altered the weather by carrying the chilled North Wind all the way to the islands in the middle of summer. Even so, he did not regret coming as soon as his gut had told him something was wrong.

 _Jack found Julius on his knees, a wreck in his stiflingly hot bedroom. He was clutching the sides of his head, curled into the corner of the room and sobbing. When Jack reached out to him, Julius snapped his head up in surprise. His brown eyes shone with tears that still dripped along the tracks on his cheeks. His expression held such pain, such grief and so much fear. Jack knelt down in front of him, trying not to flinch away from the radiating heat._

 _"What happened?"_

Julius finally sat down next to Jack. the frost stopped spreading, forming a crystalline line between them. His eyes were swollen, his face still a little red. He stared out at the dark glassy waves in silence. Jack turned his gaze to the small assortment of items laid out in front of them.

 _" I'm sorry," Julius immediately gasped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I didn't mean to do it…"_

 _" Whoa, slow down. Do what?" Jack asked, gently taking Julius's hands down from his head. "Tell me what happened."_

 _"I…" Julius paused and gulped back another sob. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone...I just...wanted them to…"_

 _Julius fell back into crying. Jack hugged him without thinking, and he winced at the heat on his skin. But he let Julius' tears hit his neck, even as his frost melted away and they began to feel like droplets of boiling water in his skin._

There were four different seashells placed in a neat row in the sand. There was a cowry, a sand dollar, a scallop, and a cerith that had been polished carefully. Behind the shells was a gleaming piece of sea glass, filed down into a small cross. On the sides of the cross were two tealight candles. Julius held a box of matches in his hands. Finally, there was a small boat carved from the wood of the palm trees on the beach.

 _"I-tr-tried-to-push-back the-fr-front!" Julius' words were punctuated with sorrowful gasps as he tried to explain around his grieving and breathe at the same time. "Just for-a-little-whiiile…"_

 _"Oh...god..." Jack regretted speaking, for the horror in his voice made Julius sob harder. He was starting to choke, so Jack rubbed his back and tried to slow his breathing. His fingertips pressed frost into Julius's shirt, though it melted almost immediately._

 _"I...just w-wanted...!" Julius coughed out as soon as he could breathe a little bit more easily. Jack clamped his mouth shut. He didn't want to speak yet. He felt that he shouldn't, because he knew._

Julius placed each seashell gently on the wooden boat. He stuck the glass cross in front of its tiny sail, and placed the tealights behind the sail. Jack watched him, not saying a word.

The sun was beginning to set. Julius struck a match, and it flared with the same orange of the horizon. He touched it to the each candle's wick and let them start glowing. Then he shook the match out and set the box behind him.

 _They were not deities, and their power was not absolute. Although seasonal spirits had great influence over the weather, there were still parts that were out of their control. These parts were proud and quick to anger, and fighting them was not wise, no matter how angry they made the spirits of the Seasons._

 _Jack could barely make out what Julius was sobbing into his hoodie, but still he understood. After a few minutes, Julius quieted down to sniffles and hoarsely recounted what had happened._

 _They had been college students on vacation together. The four of them had been boating into the middle of the ocean, perhaps just seeing how far they could go. Humans seemed to enjoy that kind of exploration. They were a long way out from the Isles when Julius spotted them. He'd made the day bright and gorgeous, and though he saw tourists around Seychelles every day during summer, he was proud of the weather he'd made. Of course a forecast of thunder and rain wouldn't do._

Julius pushed the boat to the edge of the water. The surf lapped at the sand, pulling in grains ever so slowly.

 _He had to be careful not to make the day too hot. He could command the wind to push around the clouds, and swirl the air to scatter the sun's rays a bit. Today, he felt strong. He wouldn't let a stubborn cold front get in the way of a memorable summer vacation. Humans were always so disappointed when they were forced inside at the threatening presence of deep gray clouds and the telltale war drums of a summer storm. He felt that holding the front back would let the students sail in and enjoy the day on the beach before any storms hit the area._

 _But cold fronts were ornery beings. They did not take kindly to being fought. Even more than warm fronts, cold fronts demanded power and respect in the sky. The front that met Julius in the air was no exception. Frustrated, Julius pressed harder, and this was his mistake._

 _He heard the water, and he heard the thunder. It gave him no other warning. The South Wind frayed at the edge of the cold, splitting down the middle and dropping Julius into the ocean. He was groggy from hard impact, but he didn't require breathing at all times, and was able to stare consciously. He found nothing but horror, horror at the lightning that illuminated the water's surface, horror at the bubbling madness that was the wave pounding over the little boat, horror at the figures being slammed under the water and into the debris. He reached, screamed without thinking, and though he needed no breath, his lungs were not meant to take in water. He choked and struggled to the surface that still raged with frigid turbulence. The Wind brought him home, but amidst the blur of his half-drowned memory he was absolutely certain that he had not seen any moving creature amid that crushed little sailboat._

Julius pushed the wooden memorial onto the water. He swirled his finger behind it, and the waves pulled it away. It continued on, and the two spirits said nothing. Jack held his hand out and Julius took it. He tried not to let anger swell up in him. The front responsible would be hard to find, and fighting it would do nothing, for it was a wild mass of Winter essence. More importantly, Julius didn't need to sense anger now. He was too full of sorrow.

Jack slipped back into his own memories. How many had the cold winter killed? How many elderly, soldiers, orphans? How many graves could he ever hope to make out of ice and frost?

He felt a droplet on his cheek. He glanced up, expecting rain that matched Julius's mood, but though the sky was gray, the clouds were still holding back and it was his own eye that cast water down his face. He let his tears fall into the sand. They froze and gleamed like tiny crystals, and he could see damp indented circles not far from them where Julius knelt.

Night was beginning to fall, but no stars poked out from behind the veil of rain clouds. Droplets were loud on the beach house's metal roof, and they lulled the home into silence along with the waves.

* * *

 **That was hard to write. Ouch. But I really wanted to explore the reality that winter is not the only deadly season, although its dangers are often the most obvious.**


End file.
